


Seven

by holyhael



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Asexual Monroe, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: locked in a building/room/small space together alone</p><p>Monroe can’t believe she’s just said that, but there it is, nonchalantly laid out in the darkness between them. The term ‘deafening silence’ has never made sense to her, but in the ensuing silence, she can scarcely hear her own heartbeat, and she thinks she understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven

**Author's Note:**

> proofreading? what's that?  
> warning for a rape/sexual assault mention

This is the worst. The closet isn’t very big to begin with, and a lot of the room is already taken up by Roma’s clothes. Monroe barely has a moment to take it in before she door closes behind her and they’re cast into darkness.

“I can’t believe this,” the other victim of the party’s pranks mutters. Monroe turns her head from the door to stare in Harper’s direction deeper in.

“What’s that?” Monroe asks.

Before Harper can respond, someone bangs loudly against the door. “Clock’s ticking!” someone shouts. Monroe rolls her eyes. “Give it to her, Harp!”

“Shut the fuck up, Murphy!” Octavia exclaims. “Leave them alone.” It sounds like she punches him in the arm, and Monroe smiles. Then, as silence takes over, she bites the insides of her cheeks. Nervous habit. She bites down on old wounds and makes fresh ones in equal measure.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything,” Harper says on an exhale. Monroe turns her attention back to the young woman locked in the closet with her for the next seven minutes. “I know you’re asexual or whatever. Just because they want a show doesn’t mean we have to give them one.”

“What? You think just because I’m ace means I don’t like kissing people?” Monroe scoffs. “Please.”

“It’s a stupid game anyway. I mean, what the fuck?” She slumps against the back wall. Monroe decides to sit down as well, splaying her legs out. She thinks her leg is touching Harper, but in the dark it’s impossible to tell. “Locking two teenagers in a small room? What if something happened? Like, rape-y happenings?”

“Well, I’d hope someone on the other side would open the door and kick the living daylights out of the asshole who ruined the game for everybody. And scarred someone else for life.”

“But what if the party decided to give them privacy? What if the music’s too loud for them to hear any cries for help?”

“Well, I’ll bet you one thing: our party’s got their ears pressed up against the wall.” To prove her point, Monroe slams her palm on the wall; somebody on the other side shouts in pain. With a smirk, Monroe says, “See what I mean?”

“Still, this game is bullshit.”

“Yeah, I’ll agree with you there. But… you know, I wouldn’t mind kissing you.”

Monroe can’t believe she’s just said that, but there it is, nonchalantly laid out in the darkness between them. The term ‘deafening silence’ has never made sense to her, but in the ensuing silence, she can scarcely hear her own heartbeat, and she thinks she understands.

At last, Harper says, “Really?”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Definitely not. She bites her cheek.

Harper coughs a laugh, but after a moment, she sobers up. Monroe wishes it wasn’t so dark, so she could see her face. “Really?”

Monroe smiles. “Yeah.”

“So do you wanna do it?” Harper asks tentatively. “If you wanna do it, I’d do it.”

Unable to hold back her laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, Monroe tucks her chin into her chest and lets it out. Is it hot in here or is it just her? Her cheeks and ears feel like they’re on fire. She should probably take off her jacket, too. Shit.

Almost like she’s read Monroe’s mind, Harper chuckles, “I know right?”

Silence descends between them again. Monroe finds a loose thread on the cuff of her jacket and fiddles with it.

“How much longer do you think we have?”

Harper shrugs, her shoulders rubbing against the wall. “Four, five minutes?”

“I was thinking that too.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

Monroe kicks out in Harper’s direction and makes a triumphant exclamation when she feels her boot connect with soft flesh. A thigh maybe? Harper swats at her.

“Dunno if I want to make out with you now. I don’t want to make out with anybody who gets mud on my good jeans.”

“You dressed up?” She really wishes there was a light now. Monroe would give up her PS3 for a week if she was able to see Harper this very moment. Yeah, she saw her during the party and everything, but she didn’t _look_ at her, didn’t notice if she’d done anything new with her makeup or what kind of shirt she was wearing. Four minutes left in the closet? Okay. As soon as the door opens, anybody’ll be hard-pressed to tear Monroe’s eyes away from Harper.

Sounding mock-offended, Harper gasps, “You didn’t notice?”

“I’ll kiss you right now if you can tell me what I’m wearing,” Monroe challenges. Maybe she should’ve challenged a kiss if Harper can’t, but it’s too late now.

Harper hums, then clicks her tongue. “Well, you’ve got those braids in your hair. Those look awesome by the way.” Monroe grins to herself. Bingo. “The pink jacket? With some kind of dark top. Grey jeans.”

Shit. That’s exactly it. Monroe’s jaw is hanging open - thank God Harper can’t see her. “How’d I do?”

Monroe has to clear her throat before any intelligible words come out. “Um. Good. You did - perfect.”

“So can I collect my prize?”

“Um. Yeah. Yeah, yes.”

Harper shifts. There’s a hand on Monroe’s flat palm, and it travels up her arm, to her shoulder, and finally rests on her jaw. Harper’s hand is warm and clammy on her cheek, but Monroe doesn’t care. She closes her eyes - not that it makes much of a difference - and moments later Harper’s lips are on her. Mostly on her chin, at first, and a little off-center, but they turn toward each other and find what they’re looking for. Monroe’s mind goes blank except for this kiss. At least until the knocking interrupts them.

“Seven minutes’re up!” Bellamy declares. Monroe groans. Why did it take them so long to get to the kissing part? Why did they have to talk so much?

Well, the kiss wouldn’t’ve been the same. Monroe certainly wouldn’t’ve enjoyed it as much as she did.

Neither her nor Harper have moved much since the interruption. Their breaths mingle together, hot and kind of sticky, like punch.

“Can’t they give us like five more minutes?” Harper gripes. She rests her forehead against Monroe’s shoulder, and Monroe pats her arm.

“I’ve got a jeep outside. We can ditch the rest of the party and continue this in there,” she proposes.

“Let’s,” Harper says. She kisses Monroe again, this time severely missing her lips and getting her cheek.

“Did you hear me, girls?” Bellamy calls. “Door’s unlocked!”

Grabbing hold of Harper’s hand, Monroe stands up and then helps Harper up. The door opens and light pours in with a twist of the knob, and immediately Monroe looks at Harper.

Life is good.

 


End file.
